A vow beyond time

There are days when the soul doesn’t want structure. It doesn’t want checklists, plans, or expectations — just space to breathe.
One such day, I found myself walking aimlessly at the foot of Vitosha Mountain. I hadn’t planned it. I simply followed a quiet longing inside me, stepped off the routine path, and let my feet carry me toward the wild rose bushes — those gentle, thorny, fragrant companions of spring. Their pink blossoms swayed softly in the breeze, bees danced between the petals, and for a moment, everything felt simple, alive, and free.
It reminded me of something many of us forget: the healing power of spontaneity.
In psychoanalytic terms, spontaneity is often seen as an expression of the true self — the authentic core of who we are, unburdened by the roles we play, the defenses we build, or the expectations we inherit. While impulsivity may be driven by unresolved tension or avoidance, true spontaneity is quite the opposite — it is a conscious surrender to the moment as it is, a gentle act of listening to the voice within.
This voice is often quiet, shy even, especially if we've spent years silencing it in the name of productivity or caution. But when we act spontaneously, we allow a deep part of ourselves to be seen, heard, and felt. We move closer to inner wholeness.
From a spiritual perspective, spontaneity is a form of sacred trust. It's the art of letting go and allowing life — or God, or Spirit, or the Universe — to guide us. In the Gospel of John, it is said, “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” Spontaneity is like this wind — a movement of the soul that cannot always be explained, but longs to be followed.
When we say “yes” to a moment without needing to control it, we are practicing surrender. We are moving in tune with the divine rhythm of life, opening ourselves to synchronicities, gentle revelations, and inner peace.
That day among the blooming rosehip bushes, I felt something shift inside me. I hadn't come seeking answers. I simply came — and that was enough. The flowers weren’t asking for anything either. They bloomed freely, unafraid, unscheduled. Their existence was a quiet lesson: You don’t have to always know. You can simply be. And that is beautiful.
In a world obsessed with certainty, plans, and goals, perhaps we need more days like this — days where we let the path choose us, rather than the other way around.
I invite you to reflect:
When was the last time you did something spontaneous — not because you had to, but because your heart whispered, why not?
What might shift in your life if you gave yourself permission to not have all the answers?
Could you carve out even one afternoon this week to follow a wild path — in the forest, in your mind, or in your heart?
Spontaneity isn’t chaos. It’s not recklessness. It’s trust.
It’s listening deeply.
It’s saying yes to the mystery.
With love and light from the mountain path,
🌿 Anelly Aya
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